


Through The Eyes of the First

by Sound_Of_Time



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: And Then There Won't be Anything for a Week or Two, DEAL WITH IT, F/M, How Many Tags am I Supposed to Have?, I Don't Have a lot of Free Time, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Just Seeing Where This Goes, Mass Effect 1, Mass Effect Takes Place During a War, Multi, My First Reader-Insert, Nihlus Still Dies, Possibly ME2 and 3, Reader gets a tattoo, So There Will be Blood, So Two or Three Chapters Will Come out at Once, hope it doesn't suck, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5090486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sound_Of_Time/pseuds/Sound_Of_Time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love Mass Effect, and I've been a lurker here for quite some time, but I never seem to find quite the fic that I'm looking for. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of amazing writers here, and they write a lot of amazing stories, but there isn't a lot of what I'm looking for.<br/>This story isn't what I'm looking for either, but it's a story nonetheless.<br/>Essentially, you, the lovely reader (Sorry, guys, this one is a girly fic. I'm not good at writing penis), are a candidate for first Human Spectre. I can't say anything else without ruining the story, but it's basically Mass Effect 1 with you there. I may continue on to ME 2 and 3, but I haven't decided yet.<br/>Enjoy.</p><p>On hold at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nihlus

_-My name is (F/N L/N), and I have been chosen as the first candidate for Human Spectre-_

      You finished writing the words on the old, yellowed paper, blowing gently on the blue ink to speed up the drying process. You had been writing in this old book for years, always writing short little notes of the important things in your life. Even more years had been spent practicing your handwriting so that it was actually legible. No one wrote things anymore. It was all typed out into your Omni-tool and stored somewhere else for later. It was useful at times, but there was something that you loved about the feeling of writing things on paper.  
      Smiling softly to yourself as you re-read your note, you stood and, upon reaching the large, floor-to ceiling set of shelves that spanned the entire wall, closed the notebook and placed it in between your copies of Tarzan and Scarlet Letter. Someday you would alphabetize your collection, but with four more shelves just like this one and just as full (plus another that was only half full), you simply didn’t have the time or energy.  
Stepping away from the shelf, you made your way through your spacious home, headed for your bedroom. Life had been good to you. You had been very skilled at a number of things throughout your childhood, and you had honed most of those skills to near perfection by the time you enlisted in the Alliance Military. You rose quickly in rank, and now you were nineteen and a Lieutenant Commander. It had probably helped that your father was an Alliance Fleet Admiral, but you knew that it was majorly due to your own abilities.  
You put on your armor and used your Omni-tool to review what was to happen.  
      A Turian Spectre named Nihlus would be joining you on Tuchanka. A group of Salarian scientists and some Turian commandos had been ambushed by a Krogan clan, and were currently holed up in some underground tunnels that they had found. Several Turians had gone off on their own in hopes of finding another exit, but reports said that there were gunshots and yelling, as well as the call of an unknown creature, and the soldiers have yet to be found. It was a simple rescue mission, but with a lot of unknown factors. Neither you nor Nihlus knew what was in the tunnels with the group, and reports of how many Krogans there were varied from twelve to two hundred. Fun.  
      You checked your assault rifle for the billionth time before sliding it into place in the holster on your back, right next to your shotgun. You patted the pistol on your hip three times for good luck as you walked through the front door of your house on the outskirts of Segonia. A transport shuttle was just landing as you locked the door, and you hurried towards it, anxious for the mission ahead.

_ One Hour Later… _

       “Lieutenant (L/N)?” A gravely voice with subvocals radiating authority. You loved the sound of Turian subvocals, and had spent a year and a half learning how to hear and understand them. It wasn’t a language, per se, but more of a tone. You looked up from your Omni-tool- you had been rereading the synopsis of the mission, trying to figure out a plan of attack. Standing in front of you was a tall Turian male with elaborate white face markings. You stood at attention, saluting your superior. He was… more than you had expected him to be. And somehow also less.  
       You had been expecting a cold, ruthless individual, a man with few markings and many ways to kill. Nihlus looked like a pleasant individual, older than you, but young at heart. His eyes were hard and held authority, but within them was a shine of friendship. He nodded for you to stand at ease, and you did so.  
      “I assume you’ve read the reports?” He began walking and you followed, half a step behind him, but to his left so that he wouldn’t have to turn awkwardly to speak to you. His subvocals voiced approval.  
      “Yes, sir.” Another vibe of approval, with a hint of surprise.  
      “Good,” He turned, leading the way to a small Turian frigate, “Have you told anyone of the mission?”  
      “No, sir.” You stepped into the decontamination chamber, and he turned to face you as the doors slid shut and the process began. He wasn’t any more than an inch taller than you, and you stood at a respectable distance from him.  
      “Even better,” There was a beep, and the doors to the rest of the ship slid open, “The details of your involvement in this mission are top-secret,”  
      You had a hundred questions about that, but decided that they could wait. You would be told if it was necessary, and the fact that Nihlus wasn’t elaborating told you that you didn’t need to know.  
      Nihlus stopped in front of a weapons locker and fiddled with the lock. You took the pause in movement to observe your surroundings. There were very few crew members around, barely enough to be considered a skeleton crew. One of the crew members was staring at you, and you awkwardly smiled at him before turning away and focusing on the scratches in Nihlus’ armor.  
      The Spectre turned, holding a light armor pack with the Spectre symbol emblazoned upon the top.  
      “You’ll be needing this,” he said, handing it to you, “It doesn’t mean that you’re a Spectre, but it gives you the temporary authority of one. Other races will respect you and follow your orders. I will be evaluating what you do with your new authority, and it will factor into whether or not you are deemed worthy of true Spectre status. Do you understand?”  
      “Yes, sir,” You said, nodding in the affirmative.  
      “Good,” He led you to a small room, just big enough for a cot and a weapons bench, “These are your quarters. Get your new armor on, we land on Tuchanka in thirty-five minutes.” And with that, he was gone.  
      You set the armor pack on the weapons bench, taking a deep breath and opening the case.

_ Two Days Later… _

      “FUCK.” There was a laugh from behind you and you turned to glare at the source. “You think this is funny, Nihlus?” The Spectre in question merely laughed again and shot towards whoever-whatever was following the group. The Salarians seemed to be getting anxious, and what was left of the Turian soldiers were blind firing into the darkness of the tunnels.  
      When you and Nihlus had landed on Tuchanka, you had immediately been overwhelmed. The Krogan numbers were close to thirty, but that was twenty-nine more Krogans than you would have preferred to be charging after you. Their numbers were now closer to six, and you had been responsible for fifteen of them being… unavailable. After the remaining Krogan had scattered to regroup, Nihlus had led the way to the tunnel entrance, which was, of course, now gone. You had just managed to grab your Spectre mentor by the fringe and pull him out of the way as a Krogan Batlemaster detonated a charge at the mouth of the cave. Turians and Salarians alike had to march forward in hopes of finding another exit. So far, the only thing that had been discovered was that the “tunnels” were actually a Thresher Maw nest… hive… thing. There were a lot of Thresher Maws, and they seemed to live in the tunnels. You heard a screech from in front of you and you fired blindly in that direction until your shotgun overheated, and then you did the same with your assault rifle while Nihlus and the Turian soldiers led the Salarians down a different tunnel. Your gunshots lit up that section of the tunnel, and you saw that it was a relatively small Maw. It screeched and tunneled away. You ran after the group, almost bumping into a scientist. Everyone in the group was looking up at the same thing: A small beam of light coming from about ten feet above the tallest man’s head. You glanced over at Nihlus, who nodded, and began the steady climb up to the hole. When you reached it, you yelled out your discovery.  
      “I see an old outpost. I should be able to climb through here and make the hole big enough for everyone else to get through, and then we can send for an evac shuttle to pick us up there.”  
      “How do we know that you won’t abandon us here, human?” One of the soldiers demanded from below you. Nihlus assured him that you could be trusted and gave you the okay to go through with your plan.

       Which ended up taking a few hours. Tuchanka’s dirt is more like rock, and the noise from you shooting the ground made the rest of the group nervous. The Salarians demanded to go first, as they’d likely be able to get the cooling and water running again in the outpost, and you were just helping the last one out when you heard the sound of a shuttle landing. The scientists scattered and you grabbed for your shotgun just a bit too late as the first Krogan charged for you. He hit you like a ton of bricks strapped to the front of a train: hard. The wind was knocked out of you, and you were fairly certain that all of your bones were broken. Your biotics flared up and you pushed the three Krogans away, holding them back in stasis fields while you struggled to your feet, regretting every move.  
      Nihlus had scurried up the wall of the tunnel when he heard the commotion, and as soon as he was able, he rushed to your side to help you up. He had grown to respect you greatly during the two days spent in the tunnels. You had kept up with the Turians, and had never asked for breaks or for the pace to slow. You had only taken the bare minimum of the rations, often not even that, preferring to split them amongst the Salarians. When the scientists needed rest, and they often made it very known, you had demanded that everyone rest up, insisting that you would keep watch. Only when Nihlus himself had ordered you to get some sleep as well, and even then you only did so for a few short hours. You had gone above and beyond his expectations for being a Spectre, and he would report as such to the Council. If he made it out of here alive, he silently reminded himself as your biotics began to fade. You weren’t fitted with any implants, and so your biotics, while extremely powerful, didn’t last very long when you were in pain or distracted.  
      “Drop the fields”, he ordered, readying his assault rifle and starting to fire before you drop the stasis. The kick of your shotgun makes your vision go black with pain, but you shake it off and channel the hurt into anger. Your biotics flare up again, but you use most of them to keep yourself upright, only using the rest to throw a Krogan out of the way. He ran off after seeing that his comrades had fallen, and you marched towards the outpost with Salarians in tow. You yelled for Nihlus to help the rest of the Turians out of the tunnels, telling him that you would call for an evac as soon as you knew where you were. With each step you tried to look strong for the scared scientists, but Nihlus could see that you were in a lot of pain, and he felt his admiration towards you grow. This would definitely go in his report.


	2. Yes, No, Maybe So

_-My name is (F/N L/N), and today I did not become a Spectre-_

_Earlier…_

     “WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE ISN’T QUALIFIED?!?!?!” Nihlus was livid, and you were just plain confused.  
     “Exactly what we said, Nihlus. Based on your report, we believe that she is not ready to be a Spectre.”  
     “‘An innovative use of biotics was shown when she held back Krogan forces to buy herself time.’ She used biotics to catch her breath? That is incredibly inappropriate, not to mention selfish.” The Asari councilor added. Nihlus clenched his fists.  
     “ALL BUT FOUR OF HER RIBS WERE BROKEN. AND SHE WAS ARMED WITH A SHOTGUN. THAT SHE USED.”  
     “Nihlus…” You finally spoke up, not wanting him to feel negative repercussions for defending you, “The Council has decided. I only hope that, in a few years’ time, I’ll be able to try for the position again,” turning to face the Council once more, you continued, “I apologize for not meeting all of your requirements, but I understand that, due to the quick advancement of the Humans in Council space, you must be harder on us as a race, and, in return, we must prove able to meet your demands. It’s only fair to the other races that have tried long and hard for the position.” Hoping to end the meeting on a sweet note, you simply bowed respectfully and left with Nihlus chasing after you shortly after.  
     “Lieutenant (L/N), wait!” You paused to let the Turian catch up, “You… You’re really just going to let them say you aren’t ready? Even though we both know you are?”  
     You smile up at him and offer your arm jokingly, “Yes. Now come on, we’re celebrating with…” you check your watch, “...lunch!”  
     “Celebrating?” Nihlus asks, but he gets no answer other than you pulling him in the direction of a restaurant that serves all races. It’s packed, but you made a reservation for two as soon as you heard that you might become the first human Spectre, hoping to celebrate with either Nihlus or one of your friends. You gave the Asari waitress your name, and she led you to a table, giving you menus and taking your drink orders before leaving with a swing of her hips and a wink towards Nihlus.  
You giggled at the flustered look that the Spectre had, and he hid behind his menu in response.  
     “What’s wrong, Nihlus? Never been flirted with by a pretty lady?” He looked up, even more flustered by the looks of it.  
     “She’s… uh…. not my type. Besides, her scent was all…” He trailed off, and his subvocals sounded flustered.  
     “All what?” You nudged him gently, “Was she wearing the same perfume as your mom or something?” That got him to snap back to reality.  
     “What? No! She’s pregnant.” And with that, he went back to his menu while you stared dumbfounded at him.  
     “You… can tell from her smell?” You straightened when you saw her headed your way with the drinks. After dropping them off and not-so-subtly flirting with Nihlus, she took both of your food orders and menus and sauntered off. Nihlus chatted idly with you, discussing previous missions and comparing tactics. When your food arrived, the chat turned to personal life. Nihlus was an only child, and he spent most of his childhood with his father, “I did learn how to cook, though. You’ll have to let me try my hand at human food,”. He had been expected to join the military and had been training since he was very young, much like yourself. He was surprised to learn that you had killed your first man when you were six. Slavers had invaded your hometown, and your father had left you with a pistol to guard your mother and aunt while he fought with the other men. A man had crashed through your door and promised to shoot your aunt if you didn’t be a good little girl and go to your room. You had shot him in the head. The pistol still sat at your hip, fully loaded, only twice used. Nihlus asked when the second time was, and you laughed around a mouthful of noodles. Chat turned to Nihlus again.  
     He was unmarried, “Just looking for the right one, you know?” You asked if anyone had ever come close. “Not in the slightest.” You told him that with that kind of attitude, he’d die alone. He told you that he would only be so lucky, “I just need to figure it out, that’s all.”  
     After you had paid the bill (much to Nihlus’ displeasure), he offered to walk you to your apartment. The walk was mostly gun talk. Which ones you like most, which upgrades he thought were worth the money, and by the time you got to the apartment you knew practically everything about the other’s gun. You invited him inside and offered to call a cab for him, and as soon as you were through the door, you were pinned against it.  
    “Have you checked the rooms for bugs?” He whispered, barely audible, into your ear. You nodded yes, afraid to move more than that. His subvocals were all over the place, and you were afraid of what that might mean. When you spoke, your voice came out in a quiet squeak.  
    “There aren’t any.” Almost instantly, he was off you and a good three feet away.  
    “Good. I have an important message for you from the Council. His Omni-tool lit up, and the council members were projected above the screen. It was a recorded message that would self-delete after playing.  
    “Lieutenant (F/N L/N), congratulations. You are the first human Spectre. Unfortunately, we could not be public with this information, and if you attempt to do so, we will deny all knowledge, revoke your status, and consider you a rogue agent. Please understand that this is for your on safety. We have had several other candidates, and we suspect that there is a Spectre out there who wishes to keep the humans out. For your sake, we hope that this Spectre isn’t Nihlus,” Nihlus gave you a reassuring shake of the head, “All other candidates have either been killed, or have had their missions sabotaged. You have been the most promising candidate by far, and so your mission was kept a secret. We had to publicly dismiss you in order to call off the suspicions of the rogue agent, but you will now be granted a Spectre-level clearance, and a public promotion to Admiral in honor of your success on Tuchanka.” You checked your Omni-tool and, sure enough, your rank and pay had been changed, “Congratulations on your Spectre status, Admiral (L/N). Do not make us regret it.”  
    The recording deleted, and Nihlus handed you a black card, very similar to a Credit Chit, “This card will give you access to the Spectre Office, but only after-hours. No one other than you, the Council, and myself are allowed to know of your new status. You’ll still get special missions like the other Spectres, but they won’t get the same publicity, if they get any at all,” His Omni-tool beeped, “Speaking of missions, I could probably use some help on this one?” You nodded eagerly, too shocked from all of this for words, “Great. Now tell me,” He said, leading you by the arm out of the apartment and towards the docking station, “Have you ever been to Metgos?”


	3. Perfection

_-My name is (F/N L/N), and today I can see-_

_Much, much earlier..._

      Metgos. It was a hell hole. So was Armeni. And Chloropon, and Faringor, and Mavigon, and all the other planets that you had traversed in the past six months. You had even gone back to Tuchanka, though that was originally for a diplomatic situation, and not at all meant to turn into a shoot-out.  
      You could partially be blamed for that, as well as the bullet in your side. Your emotions had gotten the best of you, and you had prodded where you shouldn't have- their females. You couldn't stand the idea that they were auctioned off and used as breeding stock. They all looked miserable, worn, and half dead.  
      But Tuchanka was last week, and the bullet in your side wasn't from a Krogan, but rather an Asari. Mercenaries. You hated them more and more with every shot they took.  
      Nihlus was with you for this mission, but he didn't know you had been hit, and you didn't plan for him to know until it became a hindrance rather than a small irritation. It wasn't the first time you had been shot, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.  
     Nihlus glanced over and nodded once at you, signalling that you were to provide the fireworks, while he provided the firepower.  
      You vaulted over your cover, using the pain in your side as fuel for your biotics. You gave them flashes of blue, and held a few up in stasis fields, and Nihlus took them out, one by one.

(Nihlus' POV)

      There was no need for (F/N) to provide cover while he shot, but she was in no real danger while her biotics were in Beast Mode, as she affectionately called it. Besides, with her entire body pulsating blue and black, a roar of defiance ripping past her lips as she fired up her biotics, she looked powerful, strong, and _incredibly sexy_.  
      Nihlus had never thought of another species as attractive before, and, if he was being honest with himself, he rarely found any Turian females to be sexually appealing. They were all business and no fun, but (F/N) was just the right amount of both. Even right now, with all that was happening and with her biotics at full blast, if he cracked a joke she would laugh right along with him.  
      He fired at a sniper as she deflected another biotic’s blast, throwing it back at them and effectively crushing them with their own weapon. During their missions together, he had seen her do many things that he had thought impossible, and each time he had questioned it, (F/N) had simply shrugged and treated it like it was nothing; “I just go with the flow,” He admired that.  
      Another sniper down- he was focusing on the enemies that she couldn’t see. The last sniper collapsed into a puddle of brain and blood, and Nihlus took a moment to reload and admire the woman in front of him. The pure, unhindered strength of her biotics caused her (H/C) hair to fly haphazardly, as if there were a strong breeze in the room. Her hands and arms moved, lazily controlling the power that coursed through her frail body. He marveled once more as he used his assault rifle to take down a merc in a stasis field. She flirted with danger, and seemed to love it’s company. Two more dead, thanks to his rifle- he had lost count how many his partner had killed. Probably three times as many as he had, and he faltered a moment when he remembered that she would likely regret each and every one. Then again, they had shot first, and she wasn’t too forgiving about being shot.

(Your POV)

      You were sick and tired of being shot. In most situations, the mercenaries ran off once you started with the biotics, so these ones had lost your sympathy. This was more than them being paid to do something that they didn’t necessarily want to do, they wanted to kill you, and you didn’t really feel like dying today.  
      A deep breath, and everything was held in stasis- this was the dangerous bit: the let down of your biotics. You had the rage or pain induced power, and then, when it was at it’s maximum and the biotics were about to tear your body apart, you were calm. You could release them all at once, or just let them fade away. It was your first time releasing all of your biotic potential at once, but if you waited any longer you would lose it.  
      The power surged, and you deliberately forced it away from yourself and Nihlus. Most biotics say that it feels like a weight in their hands, as if they themselves are pushing or pulling or lifting; they say that they get splitting headaches if they use it too much, that it feels like their skull will split open. Personally, you think that that is due majorly to the implants. When you release your biotic power, it’s like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. When you lift or pull or push, you don’t do so with your own muscles, it just happens.  
      All of the mercs were on the ground. Most were dead, but a few were struggling to get back up, the force of your push having messed with their equilibrium. There was a tingle in your fingertips, and a visible blue aura around you still. The aura collected itself at your hands, and you focused hard to keep it there, available to pin down the still-living mercs for interrogation.

 

 

       Nihlus finished typing out his report on the mercs. They had been smuggling Red Sand and, get this, _kittens_. Some of the mercs had spilled that the kittens weren’t all that they seemed to be, so they had all been confiscated for investigative purposes. You were currently at the very bottom of a pile of them. Nihlus was trying to act unamused.  
      Which wasn’t hard, considering that you had been injured, and intended to deliberately injure yourself further.  
      “Again, why do you think this is a good idea?” He asked, massaging at his temples. The tiny mews started up again as you sat up, no longer focusing on the kittens who were begging for more positive attention.  
      “It will come in handy,” he looked down at you, doubt present in his subvocals, “I’ve done my research. I’ve been working on this design for ten years, Nihlus. And now I’ve got an actual working model,” you patted the small case next to you, “But I need you there. In case I do something wrong before I have the enhancements to avoid messing things up.”  
      “No.”  
      “Fine. Then I guess I’ll just end up accidentally killing myself,” you huffed, crossing your arms and turning away.  
      “I mean ‘no’ as in ‘no, you aren’t doing it yourself’,” you turned back in confusion. Nihlus held out a hand and you used it to get to your feet, ignoring the throb in your side, “I’ve found a doctor that is very good, and who is willing to be discreet about this. He will be the one fitting you with these…” he gestured towards the box, “ _things_.” He said the word with the utmost contempt, “That’s where we’re headed now.”  
      “I appreciate that you found a doctor for me, Nihlus, but you’re going to have to learn to like those _things_. They’re about to be a part of me.”  
      Nihlus was about to speak again, but was interrupted by the pilot of the Turian vessel.  
      _“We have reached the drop point, sir.”_ Said the disembodied voice.  
      You grabbed your box and headed towards the shuttle with Nihlus in tow. You were excited to get this done. You had been excited for the past six months, having finally had the paycheck to build your enhancements.

 

     When you had first told Nihlus, he had been furious. He had gone on a huge tangent, ranting about how you didn’t need enhancements. While the sentimentality of it had been sweet, you had disagreed, and finally convinced him that they would be useful, and eventually he would appreciate them.  
     You had reached the drop. It was a small building, buried deep in the slums of some planet’s colony. It looked no different than any other building, save for the small neon sign that flashed “CLINIC” every so often. A small sign underneath the lit one told the rest of the world that the building was closed. Nihlus opened the door and walked in anyways, this time pulling you along.  
     The inside of the clinic was much cleaner than the outside. There were only two doors, and several stall-like half-walls with cots in them and curtains hanging from rods to provide privacy. All of the stalls were empty.  
     The floor was black tile, sloping gently towards the center of the room, where there was a drain cover. The black tile of the floor followed a few feet up the wall before turning to crisp, clean, white tile. A metal operating table was positioned under a bright light, and a salarian in doctor’s garb was prepping some surgical instruments. Nihlus cleared his throat and introduced you.  
     “(F/N), this is doctor Solus. He’s an old acquaintance. Doctor, this is the patient that I spoke to you about,” his hand rested on the small of your back, which you assumed was for comfort, but was in actuality his way of telling the Salarian not to fuck up.  
     “(L/N), (F/N). Here for implant. Early. Good. Admirable quality.” He turned back to the instruments, “Blood type?”  
     “On it’s way,” you said, sending all of your medical information to the doctor’s Omni-tool. Nihlus found a chair and sat, staring intently at his hands and fidgeting as the doctor helped you onto the table.  
     “You have the implants?” You nodded and handed Dr. Solus the box, taking a deep breath and laying back after he had taken it. You heard him open in and gasp.  
     “Is something wrong, Doctor?”  
     The Salarian observed you carefully, “No. Nothing. This technology… Not developed. Yours?” he asked while carefully sterilizing your implants and re-checking his equipment.  
     “Yes. I’ve been working on the idea for a while now. Are you able to,” you hesitated, looking for the right term.  
     “Install? Yes. Complicated procedure, but possible. Full sedation required. Blood transfusion possible,” He tapped a large syringe, pushing the air out of it and readying the IV. You would need to be sedated, and then kept on a constant sedative drip, as well as being constantly pumped with more blood. You had done your research and mentally prepare yourself for this.  
     The sharp stab of the needle signaled the start of the procedure. There was no turning back now. Not that you wanted to. This was what you wanted, you wanted these implants. You needed them. They were your design, and you had honestly become a little… attached to them. No one else could have the designs. Not until you had them figured out and working flawlessly.  
     “Count backwards from ten.”  
     “Ten…” Another stab, the sedative drip.  
     “Nine…”  
     “Eight…” Another, this time on your other arm. The blood pump. It was off, but could be turned on via Omni-tool once you started really needing it.  
     “Se...ven…” Darkness started creeping into your vision.  
     “Siiix…” You felt a hand squeeze yours, and you knew Nihlus was right there, and that he’d be there when you woke up.  
     “Fiiive…” Sounds faded, and were gone. Your vision was almost there. You looked into the light and knew that your eyes weren’t reacting to it.  
     “Ffff…” Consciousness evaded you, and you knew that when you woke up, you would be one step closer to perfection.


End file.
